Mission 16 - The Waiting Game

[Kersare]

OFF: Day 1 here = Day 6 in Mission 15

ON: <<USS Malinche, Isabel's Quarters, Day 1, 0900>>

With the Malinche safely docked back at Starbase 386, Isabel was glad to have the morning off...sort of. She wasn't needed on the bridge at any rate, so for the time being she was mostly trying to relax.

The previous day had been, in a way, even more hectic than when the Elyshans showed up. There was no more waiting around - the base and the ships around it were a flurry of activity and were certainly more on guard due to the Elyshans. However, it didn't seem likely that they would be returning soon.

Isabel hadn't received the Malinche's new orders yet, so for the time being they'd remain docked at the Starbase until the Admirals decided where the Prometheus class ship was needed next. Truth be told, Isabel would have preferred to get going on their next mission, but she had a feeling that that would not be happening just yet. Depending on how those at StarFleet Command were feeling, they could even keep some of the more well equipped ships at the base in case the Elyshans returned. If so, there was no telling how long it would be before they received their next orders.

She wasn't entirely thrilled with that idea, but at least there was the base and the planet that the crew could enjoy. And really, it wasn't up to her. Isabel would just have to wait and see what was in store for them.

In the meantime, it would give the new crewmembers a chance to settle in and perhaps she would get some more time with Derek. They seemed to have been making decent progress lately and she hoped they could continue in that direction. She hadn't really had a chance to speak with him since this incident with the Elsyhans; perhaps in the next couple of hours she would go find him.

Another concern was Jake. Perhaps between the new Chief Medical Officer and Nora he would make progress. Isabel certainly didn't like the idea of having crewmembers removed from duty, but she had to keep in mind the safety of her overall crew. The potential additional time might give him a chance to recover - or at least stop hallucinating.

With a slight nod to herself, Isabel stood and headed to the replicator, "Mocha, hot." When the cup of mocha materialized, she picked it up and took a sip, allowing the warm liquid to flow down her throat. She'd allow herself this one cup, and then she should probably make some rounds.

OFF:

[Masterson]

ON: [[Ready Room, USS Malinche, Shoreleave Day 01, 0720]]

As the lift continued its ascent to the bridge, Aaron idly tapped the back of a PADD with his fingers. He couldn't believe that he'd allowed Mike (NPC) to convince him to actually go through with this, yet here he was. It wasn't that he didn't want Mike aboard the Malinche. They had talked about trying to get assigned to the same starship since the Academy, even though they knew it would be difficult. This was different though and Aaron wasn't sure how he was going to handle it. Part of him wanted to forget about the whole thing and just tell Mike the captain had said no, but he couldn't bring himself to do that to Mike or the captain. It just wouldn't be fair; neither was the position he had been put in.

The lift slowed and Aaron stopped tapping the back of the PADD so that he wouldn't look too obvious. Once the car came to a halt and the doors opened, he emerged onto the bridge and glanced around. Since he didn't see the captain, he figured that she must be in her ready room. He paused to move out of the way of a crewman headed for the lift before continuing toward the ready room doors.

Isabel had finally finished going over some additional reports and decided she should head over to the Starbase. Standing from her desk, she left her Ready Room, nearly running into her new Chief Security/Tactical Officer, "Mr. Masterson, my apologies. Were you coming to see me?"

"Uh...yes, ma'am," Aaron admitted, "If this is a bad time, I can always come back later..."

"No, no, it's fine," Isabel said, putting up a hand. "Please, come in."

For reasons he could not understand, part of Aaron was disappointed that the captain was able to meet with him in person. This might have been easier if he could have just submitted the reports and transfer request without actually presenting them to her.

As she walked inside, she motioned to the chairs and table right inside the door before taking the further seat. Isabel waited for Aaron to sit as well, then asked, "What can I do for you, Lieutenant?"

"Well...I've finished my report on the incident on the Promenade yesterday," Aaron began, offering the PADD to the captain, "I've tried to confirm the details with those who were present, but I didn't have much time to do a thorough investigation." He paused, waiting to see if the captain would inquire further into the matter.

"Hmm," Isabel took the PADD and glanced through it. "Well, I imagine 386's Security Chief will be doing a full investigation...perhaps more information could be obtained that way."

Aaron nodded. He'd already taken the liberty of preparing a copy of his report for the station chief as well, figuring that it could be used to supplement any investigation that took place. It never hurt to be prepared. Thankfully, their preparation had come in handy when the Elyshans had decided to crash the summit the previous day. Aaron didn't even want to think about what might have happened if they hadn't been able to diffuse the situation. Things would have gotten ugly really fast. "Uh...captain...there was something else," Aaron began, trying to figure out how best to phrase his request.

Isabel nodded, "Go ahead." She was curious as to what it was...though she hadn't known Aaron very long, he seemed a bit nervous.

"Well...I was wondering, perhaps, if you might approve a transfer request for my department," Aaron continued, wondering why this was such a difficult thing for him to do, "I know personnel assignments usually go through the first officer, but I figured...since I was here..."

"That's quite alright," Isabel said. "Do you have the information for the transfer?"

"Yes, ma'am," Aaron replied, "it's the second file on that PADD." He wondered if the captain would read it right then or if she would wait until later. If she read it right away, he'd probably have to answer any questions she might have. Then again, he'd probably have to answer them if she read it later, too.

Nodding, Isabel slid her finger along the PADD's screen and brought up the second file. "Ensign Mike Kepler (NPC)...fresh out of the Academy. I can't say I've had a department head request a brand new officer for their department before; I take it you knew him at Academy?"

"We're...acquainted..." Aaron answered simply.

Isabel raised an eyebrow, "Define 'acquainted'." There was something she was missing here, and she didn't intend to approve the transfer without more information.

"We grew up together," Aaron explained, wondering if it would be wise to inform the captain of the relationship between him and Mike. He didn't intend to let it affect their duties in any way, especially since some people might start to think that it was affecting his decision to request Mike's transfer.

"I see," she replied. "And why exactly do you want him transferred here? Personal reasons or professional reasons?"

Aaron could not understand why this whole thing was making him so nervous. He wasn't used to feeling this way. It felt like he was lying through his teeth, even though he hadn't said anything that could be construed as such yet. Any minute, though, she would ask the question that would force him to come out with it. Unfortunately for him, it seemed like that moment was going to be sooner rather than later.

"He's a fine security officer, ma'am," Aaron replied, "scored well on his proficiency tests and his instructors made very good comments about his aptitude. I could see him making a fine addition to the team."

Isabel listened to him carefully; to her it sounded like he was avoiding the actual question, "And the personal aspect?"

"We'd always talked about serving on the same ship someday while we were at the Academy," Aaron responded, the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach growing with each word, "But I assure you, that's not the reason I've made this request." If he'd thought there'd have been any other way to work things out, he'd have tried it. Would the captain reject the request if she knew? If she granted the request, what sacrifices would have to be made to remain professional? Perhaps he should not have let Mike talk him into it and just trusted his gut in the first place. It was a bad idea and this was only making it worse. Even if the request was granted...

"Why exactly did you make the request, Lieutenant? I have to be honest with you, it partly sounds like you're trying to convince yourself about the idea," Isabel said quietly.

This was it. There wasn't any way Aaron was going to wiggle his way out of this one. He could only imagine what the captain thought of him, not even here a week and already making what appeared to be a shifty transfer request. Aaron could no longer stand to be evasive about the situation and he could only hope that the captain would understand. "I am sorry, captain," Aaron said.

She raised an eyebrow, "Sorry for what? Whatever it is, just tell me..."

"I have not been forthcoming regarding the nature of my request," Aaron explained, "I was concerned that if you knew of the relationship between myself and Ensign Kepler (NPC), you would deny the request. It would be an understandable course of action, ma'am, as I doubt it would look very good if your Chief Security/Tactical Officer was in a relationship with one of his security officers. I apologize for not being honest with you, captain." The brief explanation had practically exploded out of Aaron and it felt as if a hammer had fallen on the conversation. He waited anxiously to see what the captain's response would be, fully expecting some sort of reprimand or sign of disappointment.

Isabel had to admit that she hadn't quite been expecting a full...confession...of sorts. She considered her response quietly a few moments, then answered, "I accept your apology. In the future, however, I would appreciate it if you would just be up front with me."

Glancing down at the deck beneath his feet, Aaron had a sense of guilt at having disappointed his new commanding officer so soon after coming aboard. He usually made it a point to try to perform his duties to the fullest and he had clearly failed in this case.

"As far as Ensign Kepler... How long have you been in a relationship with him and do you feel that while in the relationship, or should the relationship not work out, you will be able to carry out your duties despite being his direct superior? Normally I wouldn't pry, Lieutenant, but I believe you understand why I must ask," Isabel said. Thus far, to her knowledge, none of her crew were in relationships with someone in their own department; that tended to complicate matters.

"About five years, ma'am," Aaron replied automatically, "I will fulfill my duties to the best of my ability." That was his primary concern, that something might happen that would either negatively impact their ability to perform their duty or that would hurt their relationship. Aaron didn't want either outcome to happen, but at the same time, he knew he couldn't keep putting it off. Eventually he was going to either have to face the facts and find a way to work things out or make a choice.

Isabel nodded slowly, "There are other officers aboard that are in relationships with other officers, though none in the same department. If having Ensign Kepler aboard is what you want and feel is best, I will approve the transfer request...on one condition."

Aaron lifted his head so that he was looking over at Captain Kersare to show that he was listening.

"Should you have difficulties with performing your duties while in a relationship with Ensign Kepler, you discuss it with either the Counselor or myself. If it becomes an issue, we will re-evaluate what should be done to alleviate the situation," Isabel said. She wanted to be fair, while also being clear that she didn't want any problems to arise.

"Yes, ma'am," Aaron said, noticing that he felt slightly better than he had minutes earlier. Slowly, he rose to his feet, believing the discussion to be over, but not wanting to leave prematurely. The last thing he needed was to walk out on the captain without being dismissed.

Truthfully, Isabel didn't think Aaron would let her down and, to be fair, he had taken on Derek. She was willing to give the situation a chance - if it proved to be too much they could deal with it then, but for now, the benefit of the doubt was in order. Her expression softened more, "If you need anything, let me know. Dismissed, Lieutenant."

OFF

A JP by

Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

and

[Masterson]

ON: [[Security/Tactical Office, USS Malinche, Day 1, 0830]]

The door to the office parted with a hiss as Aaron entered the room. It had originally been his intention to return directly following his meeting with the captain, but a few things had gotten him side-tracked. He was not surprised to find that Mike (NPC) was already waiting for him.

"So...what did she say," Mike asked, getting to his feet as the doors closed. His eyes followed Aaron from the doorway to the desk while he waited for a response.

Aaron took a seat and adjusted the jacket of his uniform slightly. He took a moment to shuffle a few PADDs on his desk before looking up at Mike. "She said yes," he replied simply.

"I told you she would," Mike said with confidence, a smile plastered on his face, "When do I start?"

Thinking for a moment, Aaron was just about to open his mouth to reply when the door chime sounded. He quirked an eyebrow and turned his attention to the doorway, calling out, "Enter."

Trace was still marveling at Malinche. The Iowa, his last posting had been a Akira class vessel and wasn't nearly as advanced as the Malinche. She had been decommissioned following the attack that put Trace in the hospital for almost 8 months. The Malinche was the first ship that he set foot on since he was wounded.

Finding the Security/Tactical Office wasn't that hard, assuming you followed the computer's direction. He hit the door chime and heard enter from the other side.

Trace entered the office, he didn't really know what to expect so he adopted a rather relaxed demeanor and smiled at the young man behind the desk.

"Ensign Trace Vosh reporting for duty sir."

The look of confusion must have still been evident on Aaron's face because he noticed the new arrival watching him closely. He exchanged a quick look with Mike, then turned back toward the individual who had just entered the room.

"I'm your new Assistant Chief...not that you require assisting," Trace said. "Er..I swear that sounded better in my head sir."

Mike let out a short laugh, but he stifled it when he noticed the look that Aaron was giving him. Inwardly, Aaron let out a sigh, realizing that he must have missed the transfer orders in all the "excitement" that had been going on. "I'll try to keep that in mind," Aaron said, pushing one of the loose PADDs to one side so that it at least looked organized on the desk, "Please, take a seat."

Trace nodded and took a seat. He was struck by how cute both officers were; since being joined Trace and essentially learned that he was bisexual. He had yet to have a relationship with a man as Trace Vosh but two of his past hosts were females so he certainly could appreciate the male form.

"Good to be here sir," Trace stated, handing Aaron a PADD. "Transfer orders I brought a copy just in case."

"Thank you," Aaron said, reaching across the desk to accept the PADD, "I don't know if you've heard, but things have been a little busy around here lately." He turned the PADD around so that it was facing him and skimmed over the contents briefly, though he did not doubt the authenticity of the orders. Reviewing the ensign's service record would have to wait until after their meeting. Laying the PADD aside, he turned his attention back to the Trill seated across from him. "Have you had a chance to settle in at all," he asked in an almost conversational tone.

"I travel light, something that I picked up from my previous hosts," Trace smiled. "What I did bring onboard is already stowed away in my quarters."

Mike chuckled again, shaking his head slightly. The Trill had quick wit, that was for sure, but it also sounded like he was the kind of person who tended to be all business. Another look from Aaron and he quickly regained his composure. It probably wasn't a very good idea to be laughing at his new boss, even if that person was a workaholic.

"Does he always laugh like a cadet that's had his first taste of blood wine?" Trace asked, nodding toward Mike. "Cause if that's the case I would really hate to see what he's like when I finish with my warm up and move onto my actual routine."

Vosh's first host, Kayla was well known for her sense of wit and humor, something that Trace took great comfort in.

"You'll have to forgive Ensign Kepler," Aaron said, placing emphasis on the rank in hopes that Mike might get the hint. The whole reason he had been nervous about having Mike aboard was that others might see it as favoritism. It didn't help that impression if Mike was going to be goofing around. Sure, it was fine for the off duty hours, but when they were on duty...

"Sorry, sir," Mike replied, standing up in a more formal stance. He didn't like having to worry about the finer points of procedure, but if Aaron was calling him out on it...there came a time when even he knew not to push it, especially with Aaron.

"I've had worse things said and done in my presence," Trace smiled. "I've had a chance to look over the specs on the way here, she's a pretty impressive ship sir. A lot more advanced then the last ship I served on."

"That she is," Aaron agreed, figuring he had a pretty good idea what the ensign was referring to, being relatively new to the Malinche himself, "Certainly a prime choice assignment for any tactical officer, that's for sure."

Trace nodded; the Malinche was impressive for sure.

"Anything you need help with right away sir?" Trace asked.

"Could you give us a moment," Aaron asked in Mike's direction. Some of the department business he wanted to discuss with the new assistant chief didn't really require the presence of another security officer. He didn't want to give the appearance of favoritism and he was pretty sure that letting the newest member of the team sit in on his first meeting with the new assistant chief probably wouldn't be giving the right impression.

Mike looked from Aaron to the Trill, realizing what it was that Aaron was asking. "Certainly," he said, starting toward the door.

Once the doors had hissed shut, Aaron turned his attention back to the Trill seated across from him. "How well were you briefed prior to your arrival," he asked.

"Oh a little of this and a little of that," Trace smiled. Truth be told he had spent some of his journery to Starbase 386 looking over the various missions that the Malinche had been on.

"From what I have read this is a pretty interesting ship. Your crew members got possessed by ghosts, survived an encounter with the Borg, and even made it out of a stand off with an entire Elyshan fleet surrounding you. Something tells me that things are never dull around here."

Aaron smiled a little at the succinct manner in which the Trill summarized the most recent mission profiles of the Malinche. “Well, I can certainly attest to the standoff with the Elyshan fleet,” he said, “but the others are just stories to me right now, things I’ve picked up from other crewmembers. All in all, though, she certainly isn’t a boring assignment.”

Pausing, Aaron lifted the PADD Vosh had provided him and began to skim it over, hoping to find something that would help him to better understand his new assistant chief. As he read through the transfer information, he asked, “What’s your specialty?”

Trace had to think about that. Vosh's past experiences had a wide variety of talents; although two of the past hosts were more tactical then the rest. "Close quarters combat, squad tactics, and a fair bit of combat runabout training. The last host for Vosh was actually a Trill Marine; even served with the Klingon Defense Forces for awhile."

Aaron should have guessed that someone at Starfleet Command would have picked up on his emphasis on tactical operations during his transfer. It would stand to reason that they would look to assign someone to the Malinche as his assistant chief who would have more of an inclination to security operations. In a strange way, Aaron had a pretty good feeling that this arrangement would actually work out for the best.

"Very interesting," Aaron said, considering the PADD in his hand carefully, "I don't expect you'd have learned much about me in your research of the Malinche, considering I only recently came aboard myself, but I will admit, it will be nice to have someone with a bit more security experience as part of the team."

"Thanks," Trace smiled. So far this Aaron character was turning out to be pretty easy going. And cute. Trace smacked himself inwardly for even thinking of hitting on his senior officer and department head.

"I did notice a few small holes in our security procedures when I came aboard, the same stuff that they had at the Antares Fleet Yards before I got in and upgraded them. Although according to files on the Malinche she's already got some pretty hefty internal sensors."

Setting the Trill's transfer orders aside again, Aaron picked up a blank PADD and tapped the control surface a few times as he accessed the main computer. He transferred a few important files and personnel profiles from the department as well as a few tentative arrangements he had been working on. Satisfied that he'd drummed up enough reading material for Vosh, he set the PADD down on the desk, turned it around, and pushed it toward the Trill seated across from him.

"I've compiled a few things regarding the department that I'd like your input on," he explained, "A few personnel assignments, duty rosters, and training schedules. If you want to take some time to go over the material, we could meet again to discuss a few things and any questions you might have."

"That'd be great," Trace smiled. "I'll give this a read right away."

Nodding, Aaron knew that the captain wouldn't appreciate him working his department through the shoreleave, even if some of them were still trying to get settled in. "Well, if that's all..." he said, giving a slight pause, "You are dismissed."

"Thanks sir," Trace smiled, standing back up. "Oh and do you know where I can find a Adam Townsen, I heard he's pretty handy with a Bat'leth and wanted to test a real opponent."

Aaron paused at the question, unsure of how he might answer it. He didn't remember meeting an Adam Townsen since coming aboard, but there had been so many new faces, not to mention the standoff with the Elyshans, that it was conceivable that he had been overwhelmed and forgotten whether he had or not. "To be honest, I'm not sure," he replied apologetically, "I could try accessing the ship's records..."

"That's okay," Trace said. "According to the manifest he's a medical officer, I can always use the practice tracking someone down on a new ship. I look forward to working with you Lieutenant. I should be able to get through all the reading tonight, want to meet for breakfast tomorrow morning...say around 0800 to discuss everything?"

Aaron hadn't made any plans with Mike (NPC) yet and besides, it would probably be better for him to meet with the new assistant chief again as soon as possible. With a smile, he replied, "0800 hours sounds just fine."

"See you then," Trace smiled.

As the doors hissed closed behind the Trill, Aaron shook his head slightly. He shouldn't have found it unusual to have a personnel transfer sprung on him, as he'd heard plenty of stories about them. Still, it would probably be a good idea to learn a little more about Ensign Vosh before the two of them met again the next morning. He tapped his desktop terminal to activate it and began to read through the information that scrolled across the screen. There was no way he was going to get to shoreleave today.

OFF

A JP by

Ensign Trace Vosh
Assistant Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Malinche

and

[Barrett]

<<Starbase 386>>
<Docking Port, 0600, Shoreleave Day 1>

“You weren’t even going to tell me goodbye? You were just going to leave it all in a letter?” Jason asked, watching as Adam turned around from the docking port. He hadn’t intended on it coming off so harshly but realized that if he hadn’t said that he would probably be crying at the moment.

“I can’t do it anymore Jace,” Adam stated, tears welling up in his eyes. “I love you, I will always love you but I am ready for something more…something long lasting. I want a family, I want a kid…I want everything you don’t.”

Saying those words were tearing Adam apart in on inside. He could see Jason’s heart breaking just like his own was. A deep wound was opening up in his heart; one that he was going to take years to heal. But he needed to do it; he needed to get on with his life. Waiting for Jason to finally want to settle down was not healthy, he knew that.

Jason’s world was exploding around; almost in slow motion. The thought of losing Adam…of him not being there was driving sharp pains through his chest and sending wave after wave of immense sadness coursing through his very soul. He loved Adam, loved him with all his heart. He couldn’t lose him…not like this. He had the sudden urge to throw up, a fresh sheet of sweat broke out all over his body.

“I’m sorry,” Adam said; his voice barely above a whisper. Jason could tell he was struggling to hold back tears just as much as he was.

“Adam…”

“Don’t,” Adam stated, holding his hand up. Jason took note that he was no longer even trying to hide the tears that were slowly streaming down his cheeks. “Just don’t. Lets not make this any harder then it has to be.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Jason managed to finally get out, his voice was low and strangled with emotion.

“It’s too late for that.”

It couldn't be too late for that. Jason couldn't lose him. He did the firs thing that came to his mind; the first thought that popped into his head.

"Marry me."

That got Adam's attention.

"What?"

"I can't lose you, I love you...you know that. I want to spend the rest of my life with you so marry me."

"Jason...you're just scared, you don't want to lose me..."

"No," Jason snapped, striding toward Adam. "I mean I don't want to lose you but I also love you, I want to do this...marry me."

"Jason..."

"No thinking," Jason said, grabbing Adam by the shoulders. "No regrets, you want kids we'll get some kids...hell you want me to quit Starfleet I will. But you are NOT getting on that transport and warping out of my life."

Adam looked like he was either going to slug Jason or start bursting into tears. He backed away from Jason's grip, still heading toward the docking port. Jason didn't wait anymore, he closed the distance between himself and Adam pushed him against the wall, and kissed him with more passion then he ever had before. Adam tense for a moment and then relaxed. When they broke the kiss their eyes locked.

"You really do love me?" Adam asked.

"Why the hell else would I be here asking you to marry me in front of a bunch of strangers."

Truth be told, they both forgot that they were in at a docking port; good thing it was so early or it would have been way more crowded.

"Jason..."

"Say yes."

"Yes," Adam smiled. "Hell yes...yes, I'll marry you."

OFF:

[Vosh]

<<USS Malinche>>
<Holodeck 1, 1330, Day 1>

Trace watched with mild surprise as the medical officer known as Adam (NPC) took down yet another Klingon, removing his head from his body. Finding him hadn't been too hard with the help of the computer.

"Wow, you really look like you get into this stuff."

Adam turned around, jabbing the edge of his Bat'leth into the ground. Truth be told he had an idea that Trace would come looking for him. Jason had mentioned something about him coming aboard at lunch and Adam had gone back to sickbay to check out his medical/personal file. Adam had never met a Trill before; at least not one that was so young as Trace. Or good looking for that matter.

"Helps relieve some stress, I take it that you are Trace Vosh?"

Trace nodded and extended his hand.

"The one and only and you must me Adam Townsen. I'll admit that I was surprised to see that of all people on the Malinche this program belonged to you."

"What can I say," Adam shrugged. "I like a challenge."

"Really? Care to fight a real life opponent?" Trace asked.

Adam laughed. "Some how I think that you would totally kick my butt."

"Never know unless you try," Trace responded.

"True, alright but don't go easy on me."

"I would never dream of it."

Trace grabbed his Bat'leth out of his carrying case.

"Defend yourself."

Trace came at Adam high; hoping to full him with an opening maneuver that got him more the once. Adam caught the blade and then slammed a heel into Trace's abdomen, nearly knocking him off balance. Trace smiled, clearly Adam's file did not do him any justice at all when it came to describing his combat abilities.

Adam smiled inwardly, that was one of the first moves that his teacher and Darkhelm had taught him. Trace came at his left side then his right, his Bat'leth working in a furious motion in an attempt to get around Adam's defenses. Sparks flew as they slammed into each other.

"I thought that I told you not to go easy on me," Adam grunted, dropping his weapon to block another attack.

"Really not trying too."

Adam went on the offensive, launching himself at the Trace with all the power that he could muster. Trace blocked and evaded all the blows, answering each one with a powerful counter attack of his own. Adam ducked under an attack and came up behind Trace, slamming the back and dull edge of his weapon against Trace's back. Trace pitched forward but recovered quickly, dropping down and using a sweep move that knocked Adam off his feet.

Trace whirled his Bat'leth around, waiting for Adam to get back up. The medical officer packed more of a punch then Trace would have thought but he was right. Trace was holding back...although not by much.

"Nice move," Adam said, as they began to circle each other again.

"Oh you have no idea."

Adam came in for the attack again, this time using more precise then powerful blows. Trace blocked and evaded each one. Locking Adam's Bat'leth down, Trace caught him across the face with a right hook that appeared to stun him. Trace shoved Adam's weapon aside and caught him again in the chest with a snap kick, knocking him to the ground.

Trace swung his Bat'leth around for the kill but Adam already had his up and blocked the blow, pushing Trace's up and away. He swung at Trace's legs, bolting up from his kneeling position. His slash went wide, missing Trace by several inches.

"You must have had a good teacher," Trace said, as they locked blades again.

"You could say that."

Adam didn't get his weapon up to block in time and Trace landed a solid hit on his left side, nearly knocking him over. He brought his blade down again to block but wasn't enough. Trace slammed him in the stomach with the dull side of his weapon, knocking the wind from Adam's chest before uppercutting him with the dull end and sending him rather painfully to the ground.

"Yeild?" Trace asked, the sharp side of his Bat'leth pointed at Adam's throat.

"By all means," Adam said, accepting Trace's hand to help him up. "You're pretty darn good with that thing, although being a security officer I suppose that's a given."

"And so are you," Trace said, handing Adam back his Bat'leth. "I know several security officers that could learn a thing or two from you."

"Thanks," Adam grunted, handing Trace some water. "I am usually in here every morning around 0600 practicing, you're welcome to join me. Although you may have to come down a few levels for now."

"Maybe I'll do that. Anyways, it was nice to meet you. I have to go get some reports ready for Aaron, have a good day."

Adam nodded and watched him leave, surprised that he was that attracted to him. He was, after all, engaged now. But that didn't mean that he couldn't at least admire the eye candy. Shaking those thoughts away, he re-engaged the program and went back to work.

OFF: A JP brought to you by Jason Barrett as

Adam Townsen
Medical Officer
USS Malinche

&

[Masterson]

ON: [[Mess Hall, USS Malinche, Shoreleave Day 02, 0800]]

The mess hall was quieter than usual when Aaron arrived for his meeting with Ensign Vosh. Most of the crew were probably enjoying the facilities offered them by Starbase 386, and Aaron couldn't really blame them. However, he thought that the ship's mess hall was probably the best and most convenient location for a meeting with his new Assistant Chief Security/Tactical Officer. It probably wasn't going to take that long to go over things and, if he was lucky, he might be able to get things wrapped up quick enough to spend some time with Mike (NPC) later.

"Toasted peanut butter and jelly," Aaron said to the replicator, "one glass of milk." The computer chirped in acknowledgment of the request and a moment later, the meal shimmered into existence in the replicator slot below. Lifting the tray, Aaron turned and surveyed the room for an open table. It wasn't that difficult to find one.

Aaron selected a table near one of the viewports that ran along one wall of the room. He set the tray down and laid the two PADDs he had brought along for the meeting next to it. Sliding into the chair, he unfolded the napkin and laid it across his knee before carefully lifting a cut of his toasted peanut butter and jelly sandwich from the plate. It wasn't quite the same as making it himself, but the replicator hadn't done too horrible a job with it either.

Trace was kicking himself or pushing it so hard this morning in his workout; it was something that he got from Liliana, who often didn't know when to quit. He had managed to make it back to his quarters to shower before his meeting with Aaron. So far he liked his department head; maybe a little rigid but that was to be expected from such a young officer in that position.

Trace entered the messhall and found Aaron sitting down and eating already. Trace grabbed a cup of coffee before heading over to the table.

"Good morning sir."

"Good morning," Aaron replied, lowering his glass of milk as Vosh approached the table, "Have a seat." He motioned to the empty chair across from himself as an invitation for the Trill to sit.

Trace sat down, taking note of the limited breakfast that Aaron seemed to be having. "You should have more protein then that sir...sorry, Vosh's last host, Liliana was in the Trill Marines...thanks to her I find myself wolfing down three eggs every morning."

"It's Trace, right," Aaron asked, hoping to make sure he had learned the right name.

"Yes, although personally I always thought of myself more as a Drew. I have no idea what my parents were thinking naming me Trace but that's besides the point."

"Outside of dealing with the other senior officers, I'd like it if we could be a little less formal when it comes to department matters," Aaron explained, "That's not to say I want to throw protocol out the window, but I don't think it will help us any with me calling you 'ensign' or you calling me 'sir' all the time. We're a team. I'll be relying on you, as my assistant chief, to help me find the strengths of our team and how best to use them. At the same time, we need to know our weaknesses and how to fix them."

"I can do informal," Trace smiled. "As for strength and weaknesses, I was going over our tactical and security protocols last night. I think we could tweak them just a bit."

"Good," Aaron said, adjusting one of the PADDs he brought so that he could read it from where he was seated, "Anything specific that you had in mind?"

Trace thought for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to phrase what he had to say next. It wasn’t anything against Aaron, after all the man had only inherited the department recently. But looking over things, at least from the security side, showed that they had a slight lax in procedure.

“Guess I’ll start off by saying I don’t think that our guys get enough training time in,” Trace said. “I’m by no means suggesting round the clock battle drills…Liliana craved those; personally I find them pretty annoying.”

"I did notice that," Aaron said, lifting his PADD from the surface of the table and perusing it, "An under-trained team won't do us much good...but neither will an over-trained one."

“One of the things that I learned from Liliana and from studying the engagements from the Dominion War was that our people, although pretty darned good in self defense, need to be better. Trills are no stronger than humans and Liliana could stand her ground with the best Klingon warriors; the Jem’Hadar were pretty efficient at mowing us down during hand to hand combat, I think we could change that…at least on the Malinche.”

Trace took a moment to make sure that he hadn’t offended Aaron. He personally found him to be pretty laid back and hoped that his openly candid manor would not offend him. Vosh’s first host had a saying “Better to tell the truth now then beg for forgiveness down the road.”

“I’ll be frank sir…err…Aaron,” Trace said, sitting his coffee down. “Starship combat isn’t really my strong suit; I mean I can do it and I’m not bad at it but squad tactics, smaller combat ship operations, security…well that stuff I am really good at. I think working together we could really make a difference.”

Aaron gave a small smile at the Trill's statement. At least they were on the same page in that respect, which meant that this was probably going to be a lot easier to work out than Aaron had originally thought. "Have you had a chance to review our personnel records," he asked casually, steering the conversation slightly as he did so.

Trace nodded, he had spent pretty much the whole night combing through the records of not only the security personal but that of everyone else onboard as well.

“There are several people on this ship, not just in security either, that are pretty darn efficient at defending themselves,” Trace said. “But I’ll get to that in a minute. After looking at all the records, it seems that Stone (NPC) is the only one that works out on a regular bases aside from you sir. I had operations pull his holodeck program usage and he is the only on that works on his hand to hand at least three times a week, everyone else in the department barely manages once. He is also the only one that makes multiple visits to the phaser range.”

Trace paused a moment and let all that sink in. He had a feeling that Aaron already knew most of that; they weren’t bad people and weren’t bad at their jobs but could be better. Something that Trace intended to see happen.

"Mr. Greyman (NPC) and Ensign Kepler (NPC) are relatively new to the department," Aaron said, considering the notes on his own PADD, "I know that Mr. Greyman has been spending a lot of time on the holodeck. As for Mi...Ensign Kepler, I know he just transferred aboard yesterday, fresh out of the Academy. I think both of them will be very good additions to the team."

Trace nodded, he had looked through their files pretty thoroughly and agreed that they would make pretty good additions with some fine tuning.

“What I propose,” Trace stopped himself from saying sir. “Is that each member of the department spend at least an hour a day in the phaser range, just enough to keep them constantly sharp. I’d also like at least three hand to hand combat classes a week, maybe focusing on their academy training and them teaching them some more unorthodox tactics.”

Nodding, Aaron took note of the Trill's suggestions as he spoke, mentally working out in his head how a schedule like that might work. It was a good idea, but he knew that they weren't going to be able to implement any of this at the drop of a hat. They'd need to phase it in so as to get a feel for whether it was actually helping the team or not.

“I’d also like to offer some classes to the rest of the crew, maybe give them a chance to hone their skills. I dueled with one of our medical officers yesterday, he was pretty damn good.”

"Oh," Aaron asked, looking up from his PADD. He figured he shouldn't have been all that surprised, considering that some of the most frequent electives taken at the Academy by non-Security/Tactical track cadets were the personal combat classes.

"Nothing to fancy, although from what I have read this crew is full of surprises."

Trace took another drink of his coffee; so far it appeared that all his suggetions had been met with an open mind. He was still trying to get a feel for him, although it was apparent, at least to Trace that something was going on with that young ensign in his office when he showed up. Maybe they were just friends...

"That's really all I have when it comes to actual crew business," Trace said.

Nodding, Aaron skimmed a section of information on his PADD as he thought about the suggestions that Trace had made. "Why don't you draft a possible training schedule to fit into the duty roster," he suggested, lowering the PADD to the table, "If it works out, we can give it a shot."

"Already working on it. I should have it done in a few hours," Trace said. "What about you sir? How long have you been aboard?"

"About a week," Aaron replied, taking another drink from his glass, "It's strange, really. In some ways, I feel as if I've been serving with these people for a long time and yet, in others, I feel as if I hardly know them."

"She's a pretty big ship," Trace said, happy with himself for not dropping a sir at the end of the sentence. "Everyone seems pretty nice and open. Although I gotta say, you guys sure do have your share of lookers on this ship. Did Starfleet just put all the pretty ones on the Malinche?"

The sudden turn of conversation surprised Aaron and, for a moment, he wasn't quite sure how to reply to that statement. His hesitation was conveniently covered by the fact that he simultaneously choked on a swallow of milk that had decided to take a detour. Hacking slightly, he lowered the glass to the table and quickly used his napkin to cover his mouth.

"Are you alright...I didn't mean to make you...I mean I'm not trying to hit on you or anything. Look, maybe we should just forget I even said anything."

Aaron raised an eyebrow in confusion. When he had suggested they be more frank, this wasn't exactly what he had had in mind. The poor Trill was digging himself into a hole rather quickly. It was high time that Aaron helped him out of it somehow. "Ordinarily, I'd say the mess hall is the best place to meet people, but it looks like everyone's gone over to the station for leave," he said, "I know you just came aboard, but one never knows when we'll see another opportunity for shoreleave. I suggest you take advantage of the free time while you have the chance."

”Right, well I should probably be going…least I dig myself further into a hole. I’ll have those schedules on your desk by tomorrow at 0900. It really was a pleasure talking you…Aaron.” And with that said, Trace stood, hoping that his exit would hide his embarrassment somewhat. He wasn’t trying to hit on his superior officer, although the statement he made earlier sure did sound like he was.

Aaron watched his new assistant chief cross the mess hall and disappear through the large doors. Once the Trill had left, Aaron collected his own tray and rose to his feet. Taking the two PADDs in one hand, he made his way to the replicator and disposed of the remains of his breakfast. Item one for the day's to-do list could be checked off. It was time to move on to item number two.

OFF

A JP by

Ensign Trace Vosh
Assistant Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Malinche

and

[Masterson]

ON: [[Main Sickbay, USS Malinche, Shoreleave Day 02, 0940]]

Aaron felt a lot better after concluding his meeting with the new assistant chief, Ensign Vosh. He was still getting used to being the one in charge of the department and having an assistant who was willing to work with him for the betterment of the team was a comforting thought. Between his tactical skill and Trace's physical combat experience, the two of them should be able to run a well-rounded department.

With a few more things to check off his to-do list before being able to call it a day, even a short day, Aaron made his way toward Main Sickbay. In all the excitement since his arrival, he hadn't had the chance to report in with the Chief Medical Officer for the required physical. It was probably better to get it out of the way now before the doctor came to hunt him down.

The doors to sickbay hissed open at his approach and he stepped across the threshold into the room. Taking a step to one side so that he would be out of the way, he surveyed the room in hopes of locating the chief medical officer, though he didn't really have an idea of who he was looking for.

Sitting behind her desk Renata had started to feel at home in the Malinches sickbay. After the excitement of her first day aboard the USS Malinche she’d had easily settled in and was now starting to make her mark upon the ships sickbay. It was only a few little things, a potted shrub in the corner of her office and a antique microscope on the desk. They were simple things but she felt it helped rid some of the overly clinical feel of sickbay.

Hearing the characteristic swoosh of the sickbay doors opening Renata looked up from her desk, and spied a man in tactical/ops orange looking around sickbay. Standing up she made her way towards him. “Can I help you Mr?” She asked crossing over the floor towards the young man.

"...Masterson," Aaron replied promptly, "Lieutenant JG Aaron Masterson. I was hoping to find the chief medical officer. In all the rush with the Elyshans, I haven't exactly had the time to officially report in for my physical yet."

Renata offered the man a smile. “Well as luck would have it Aaron, you’ve found her. Renata De Souza, welcome to my parlour.” Renata walked over to one of the sickbay equipment tables and picked up a tricorder before turning back to look at Masterson. “If you could sit up on biobed two please Lieutenant. I promise, I won’t bite.”

Approaching the bed she had indicated, Aaron hopped up and slid himself into a seated position on the end of it. He rest his hands on the bed to either side of where he was sitting, waiting for the doctor to begin her work.

Renata smiled. “Okay first things first, anything I should be aware of?” Renata asked opening up the tricorder and beginning to scan the young man. “Any pre-existing medical conditions, family history of genetic illness, intimate relationships with a member of another species?” Renata looked up at the man. “Believe when I say I’ve heard it all so you’re not going to be able to shock me, so even if you feel it’s not anything major or important, please feel free to divulge.”

Aaron gave the woman what he hoped was a sincere smile and replied, "Not that I'm aware of." He was pretty sure he hadn't had any serious medical conditions, no record of family illness, and certainly no relationships with members of another species.

Renata looked at the scan results and then turned back to Aaron. “Well your cholesterol is a little bit above normal, but nothing to worry about and other than a small amount of scar tissue around your right scapula. You also appear to have some disc herniation at the L4/L5 area of your spine. Have you noticed any lower back pain?”

"No," Aaron replied slowly, a little surprised that he'd have anything show up on his physical. There hadn't been anything out of the ordinary during his last check-up and he didn't think anything major had happened since then. Still, if the doctor felt that there was something up, it probably wasn't a good idea to argue the point.

”It’s nothing to be concerned over; the scar tissue is a common issue amongst security staff.” Renata explained with a smile. “If I had a slip of latinum for every security officer who walked through sickbay with USRMD I’d be a rich woman. As for the disc issue, again it’s not a major issue and can be put down to general wear and tear, given the amount of exertion a security officer undergoes it’s not that surprising for something like this to spring up, even if you are younger than the average afflicted patient.” Renata explained with a smile.

"Okay..." Aaron began, mentally preparing himself for what he hoped to be any possible outcome, "...so what are the doctor's orders?"

“You have three options, If you have twenty minutes to spare now we can prep you for surgery and do a repair on the afflicted disc. It’s a simple procedure, but I won’t lie you will feel a small amount of soreness as the spine readjusts to the repaired disc, you’ll need to be signed off duty for about 24 hours, but as we’re not going anywhere I don’t see that being a huge issue.” Renata explained putting the tricorder down and crossing her arms. “The second option is that we schedule the procedure for some other time that’s more convenient to you.” Renatas smile dropped as she went on to explain the third option. “The other one is that you ignore the issue as you are not feeling symptomatic at this present moment in time, and may not for over a year, at which point the disc ends up rupturing and you’ll require constant pain relief to cope with the issue. You’ll have to have disc replacement surgery and your back will never really be the same again. The options are entirely yours.”

Aaron glanced at the nearby wall chronometer. He hadn't really had anything scheduled for the next hour or so and his workload for the next couple of days wasn't supposed to be that strenuous anyway. The surgery would probably put a damper on whatever Mike (NPC) might want want to do for the afternoon, but at least he wouldn't have to worry about it being a problem again later. "I suppose we can do it now," he said, turning back toward the doctor.

Renata smiled again, “A wise choice Aaron, if you could take off your shirt and go over to the surgical bay I’ll just get the equipment I need.” Moving over to the equipment table she quickly glanced back at Aaron. “So Aaron, how long have you been on board?” She asked by way of conversation to make her patient feel more at ease.

Sliding off the biobed that he had been sitting on, Aaron made his way over toward the surgical bay. He began to unzip and remove his uniform jacket as he did so, placing it off to one side of the alcove that housed the surgical bay. Removing his undershirt, he set that aside as well and lifted himself up to sit on the surgical bed. "About a week," Aaron replied, watching as the doctor accompanied him across sickbay.

Renata picked up a small circular device and placed it on the small of Aarons back. “Only a week? I’m surprised, I thought I was the only new one on the block.” Renata switched on the device allowing it to start regenerating Aarons damaged disc. “Okay I’m going to administer a small amount of morphogenic compound into your back, you’ll feel a slight stinging sensation.” Renata explained pressing a hypospray into Aarons back just above the device.

The doctor hadn't been exaggerating. Aaron winced slightly but relaxed as the sensation faded to a dull memory. "It's been a rather busy week, though," he said, hoping to keep the conversation going so that he would not focus on whatever she was doing to his back, "The captain said I should take some leave, but I figured that since I just got here...well, now it doesn't seem like I have much of a choice." He smiled a little to show her that it was all in good spirits.

Renata let a small laugh pass her lips as she removed the device before passing a second device over the surgery site a few times. “Well it will only be 24 hours, and as something of an apology for being an evil evil woman forcing you to have surgery in your first week aboard, I’m cooking dinner for the senior staff and a few others tomorrow evening and I won't take no for an answer.”

"I suppose I don't really have a choice then, do I," Aaron replied. The dull stinging sensation was still there, but it wasn't near as noticeable as when she had first started the procedure. He hoped that meant that whatever she was doing was working the way it was supposed to.

Renata put the device back on her surgical tray before picking up a tricorder and once again scanning Aarons back. Happy with the results she walked around the biobed to face him. “There we go, good as new if I do say so myself.” Renata closed up the tricorder. “Okay here are the rules, no heavy lifting or anything over strenuous for 24 hours. I’d recommend a short break on the holodeck laying back on the beaches of Sarcasia IV allowing the incredibly attractive Cabana boys to pander to your every wish, but that’s just me.”

Aaron gave a wry smile as he pulled his undershirt back over his head. That was something that he was certain Mike (NPC) would not approve of. However, that didn't mean that he and Mike couldn't find something relaxing to do for the rest of the afternoon. There had to be something in the ship's database that would fit with the restrictions that the doctor had imposed upon him. "Thank you, doctor," Aaron replied as he reached for his uniform jacket, "Will you be needing to perform any...uh...follow-ups?"

Renata offered the man a smile. “We’ll run a quick scan in about two weeks time but other than that you are officially free of sickbay.”

Nodding, Aaron zipped up the jacket of his uniform and slid off of the surgical bed. He offered the woman an appreciative smile before turning and starting across the room toward the door. Within moments, he had disappeared out into the corridor.

Just before Aaron exited sickbay Renata quickly shouted across the room. "Remember 1900 tomorrow, and bring your appetite."

OFF

A JP by

Lieutenant Renata De Souza
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

and

[N'rass]

ON: [[Main Shuttle bay, USS Malinche, Shoreleave Day 02, 0700]]

L'Randil had been working on the power grid of the hunley class shuttle for an hour or so when the rest of the shift came on duty. The caitian was accustomed to working when the others were off and found a sense of calm to it.

When the crew came on duty and set about their tasks a couple new faces were there. One female came and stood in the middle of the bay. She looked around for a moment, then shouted.

"ALL Hands stand at attention!" Roen stated. The crew members gathered and L'Randil hopped down and wiped her hands off on a rag.

"Crew," The bajoran began in a commanding tone. "I am Warrant Officer Roen Anara. You will now know me as your managing CO. All requests and reports pertaining to this bay go through me. Attempts to circumvent that will not be regarded lightly. I will be available on-call at any point if you need me and you will be able to expect me to be there for you. I expect the same." She began to pace the line of younger technicians and pilots.

L'Randil flicked her tail nervously. This person had a familiar air about her and it made her hair stand up subtly, particularly when she came close.

"You as technicians hold lives in your hands. Pilots have to trust you, or else people die. I hold ANY infractions of this liable for reprimand according to regulations. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am" They responded in unison.

"Dismissed. Close out your stations at the end of your shift and enjoy your leave." They split to their paths but she walked up to L'Randil and stopped her. "Caitian." She said flatly.

She turned to face the taller senior officer with a nervous expression. Normally such a greeting would make her feel aggression, but this time she felt scared.

"Ma'a'am.?"

"My office, now." They went to her office and she stood opposite the desk while she motioned for L'Randil to sit.
"L'Randil of N'Rass." Roen began. "I thought I recognized the name when I saw the file. You served on the USS Thunderchild during the Borg conflict?"

"Yes...I did." She was still uncertain where this was headed but it didn't seem good.

"Your unit serviced my wing when we were on assignment. Two of my wingmen were lost due to power system failure." She leaned forward on the desk. "Ring a bell?"

The caitian froze but nodded.

"What do you have to say for that preventable loss of life?"

"Uh, uh, JAG cleared me of that, Ma'am."

"They said it was inconclusive due to lack of evidence. That lack was because they burned up on impact with the cube shields. I know it was system failure and I know it was you."

"I...I...want to speak with Captain Kersare before we say any more." She barely managed to say.

Roen stood back up with a raised eyebrow. "Very well. She is a respected Captain. We can wait here until she answers the page." The manager entered a message in her terminal, then sat back in her chair. L'Randil was the most nervous she had been in years and was not sure what would happen.

[Kersare]

<<Shuttle Bay Office, Shoreleave day 2 0800 hrs>>

Roen crossed her arms with an intent look toward the young caitian. The wait seemed like an eternity before the captain answered the message. "Captain Kersare, I am sorry to bother you, but there is a personnel matter we need to deal with in my office as soon as possible."

<Isabel's Quarters>

Isabel had been rather surprised to be called down to the Shuttlebay. She hadn't met the new Shuttlebay Manager yet and wondered if the woman simply wanted to meet her. However, something told her that that wasn't it. Tapping her comm badge, she replied, "I'm on my way."

<Shuttlebay Manager's Office, 0810>

As she had walked into the Shuttlebay, a number of crew had glanced up. It wasn't every day that Isabel stopped down. Truthfully, Isabel was not sure how to prepare herself for meeting Anara. She'd taken a few moments to glance over the Bajoran's service record before coming down, but there wasn't much else she could do. When Isabel walked into the office, she saw L'Randil there along with the woman who had to be Anara, "Good morning Warrant Officer Roen, what did you need?"

Roen stood up to greet the captain with a subdued, "Thank you for coming. Are you aware of your systems specialist's past record? I feel you should know that when I was a wing leader she was responsible for the loss of two of my pilots." The manager glanced at the caitian as she sat down, motioning for the captain to sit also.

L'Randil continued to tap her tail nervously speechless.

Isabel took a seat and, maintaining a straight face, replied, "Why do you feel Ensign N'rass is responsible, Ms. Roen?" While she didn't know all of the specifics, she was aware that L'Randil hadn't been convicted of what Anara was accusing her of.

Roen turned to face the captain. "Because my wingmen radioed that they had cascade power failures prior to impacting the enemy shields. If they had a proper chance to control it they might have survived."

"Considering these serious accusations, I assume you have conclusive proof that Ensign N'rass was responsible for this..." Isabel said, letting the statement hang in the air.

L'Randil motioned for a chance to speak. "For the record, captain, this was in a conflict with the Borg. There was a JAG investigation and I was suspended for a time but they determined that I was not liable."

Roen huffed.

Hearing what L'Randil said, which was in line with what she knew of the incident, Isabel replied, "Ms. Roen, I can understand you being upset about the loss of two pilots; it's a terrible tragedy no matter what the circumstances were. However, Ensign N'rass was not actually convicted and, as far as I can tell and from what I know about her service aboard the Malinche, she is quite capable of fulfilling her duties."

L'Randil breathed a silent sigh of relief. It was reassuring to know the captain was on her side.

"But, Captain, with all due respect you can understand my protest to that position."

"I can understand you being cautious due to your beliefs about Ensign N'rass, yes," Isabel replied. "However, I expect you to treat her just as you would the others, with fairness and respect. I'm sure Ensign N'rass has learned quite a bit since that incident and has expanded her knowledge, so you need to give her the chance to show you that."

The bajoran stood up in a straight position, very militarily. "I will however, uphold your orders, Ma'am." She looked at the pair then added, "Unless you have anything further to discuss, I will be about my duties elsewhere." Roen stated, trying to save face.

Isabel nodded, "Dismissed." She glanced over at L'Randil, who appeared a bit unnerved - at least as far as Isabel could tell with a Caitian.

The caitian turned to the captain as Roen walked out of the office. With a shaky voice, she said a soft "Thank you." She knew it would be a while before her manager would trust her and it was a daunting thought. L'Randil was uncertain if the captain would notice, but tried to hide the emotion.

"You don't need to thank me, I was only pointing out the truth," Isabel said, compassion but not pity on her face. "I don't imagine it will be easy for the two of you to work together, at least at first...but given time, I'm sure you'll prove to Warrant Officer Roen that you belong here, in your position."

L'Randil smiled weakly, looking at the door. "She was a hard wing-lead to please, too. Very precise. I guess that isn't all bad though, right?"

Isabel returned the smile, "Usually not. If she gives you any trouble, let me know."

The technician was beginning to get her composure back and straightened up in her seat. "I hope I won't have to do that. At least she is one to hold orders to the letter, sometimes a little too much." She caught her self muttering the last part, then paused. "It really hit me hard when they were suspending and investigating me. That was a whole experience I do not want to repeat in this lifetime. Anyway, I don't want to keep you any longer, Ma'am."

Isabel nodded and allowed L'Randil to exit the office first before following behind her. She had a few more stops to make, so with a last glance around the Shuttlebay, Isabel left.

OFF: JP brought to you by:

Warrant Officer 2nd Class Roen Anara (PNPC)
Shuttlebay Manager
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
played by: Ensign N'rass

and

Ensign L'Randil N'Rass
Shuttle Maintenance Specialist
USS Malinche

and

[DeSouza]

ON:

<<USS Malinche, Outside Counselor's Office, Day 4, 17:00>>

Jake stepped out of the counselor's office and wiped any remaining tears from his eyes. He had red circles surrounding them and he looked like he had not slept well in ages.

A crewman walking by stopped before him. "Excuse me Sir are you alright?"

Jake smiled. "Um ya...what ship is this?".

"The USS Malinche of course." she replied. "Are you sure your okay?" she questioned him once again.

"Yes I'll be just fine thanks for asking. Time for me to go visit the doc excuse me." Jake walked past the crewman and made his way to sickbay. He was never much of a fan of sickbays as it reminded him of when he was younger and would spend numerous times in there with broken bones. Sometimes it would be alright as he would have others to converse with. Other times he found himself alone in the dark and had even witnessed someone die in front of him. He stepped through the doors reluctantly once he reached sickbay, he knew he had to do this.

<<USS Malinche, Sickbay, Day 4, 17:15>>

The room was not too busy, there were a couple patients being attended to. One had a bruised arm the other was complaining of headaches. He stopped in the middle of the room looking around confused.

A nurse noted his presence and walked over to him. "Good day Lieutenant what can we do for you today?".

"Good day, I am looking for the Chief Medical Officer, I was sent here by Counselor Zeral." he replied.

The nurse smiled. "Oh yes we have been expecting you right this way." The nurse lead Jake to an office where a young woman sat reviewing some files. "Excuse me Ma'am." The nurse said. "This is Lieutenant McCarty."

Renata looked up and smiled at the nurse. “Thank you Jason, I’ll call you if I need anything.” She turned her head too look at McCarty. “Please, it’s Jake isn’t it? Take a seat.” As she watched Jake uncomfortably take a seat she turned round to her replicator. “Computer, one bottle of 2010 vintage single malt whiskey, authentic, not synthahol and two glasses. Authorisation De Souza Tango three alpha.” Picking up the two tumblers and the bottle from the replicator pad Renata proceeded to fill each with the bottles rich peaty smelling liquid. “Word has it you’ve had a rough time, and you’ve seen enough therapists to drive anybody sane crazy.” Picking up the glass she raised it and pointed it at the young mans direction. “Cheers.”

Jake raised his glass. "Cheers Doc." He took a sip. As the beverage touched his lips he could feel an instant relief. He took a moment to swish the drink in his mouth before swallowing it. The liquid ran smooth down his throat, he had not experienced the feeling in quite sometime and was now at a much more relaxed state, a state more familiar to him.

He placed the glass on the table. "That's right doc, Jake McCarty, just recently assigned here from the Destiny. You may have seen her while we were at 386. Looked like hell but she'll be back in action before we know it. As for the therapists well I am not much for running about sharing my feelings with everyone. Until this assignment I had never even ventured into a counselor's office for any official sessions." Jake smirked. "However whatever I am experiencing has concerned myself as well as Nora and Captain Kersare. Nora sent me here hoping you could shed some light on the situation."

Renata drained the glass of its rich smoky liquid. “I think you feel guilty. In fact I think you want to feel guilty. It’s easier that way.” Renata explained. “You’re searching for somebody to blame, so you relive the event over and over again, searching in your mind for some other outcome, some way to have changed the situation, but you couldn’t so you relent, and the trauma becomes refreshed in your head.”

McCarty sat back in his chair and shook his head. "Perhaps. As for searching for someone to blame that's easy. Those spheres were to blame! The Borg are to blame! Gallivanting across galaxies, assimilating as they please!" Jake realized he was raising his voice and took a deep breath. "A way to change the situation though...who wouldn't search for that? What it seems to me is that these memories are trying to send me a message, but I just don't know what that is."

“At the risk of sounding a heartless bitch, the message is move on.” Renata explained whilst waving the nurse away who had come over to her office door wondering what the commotion was that was going on in her office. “You say the Borg are to blame. But for what exactly? The attack? Without a doubt. But for your feelings of impotence about not being able to change the outcome? Hardly.” Renata stood up and walked around to McCarty. “Whether you care to admit it or not, deep down you can’t help but think ‘It’s my fault, she died because of me!’ “ As the words passed Renata's lips she realised what she had said. “I mean they died.”

Jake shot up out of his chair. "Well doc, I can say the risk didn't really pay off because that's exactly what you came off as. Impotence you say? Had it not been for me the Destiny and it's crew would be in 50,000 pieces spread across space!" Jake began walking circles around the doc before he stopped in front of her and stared her in the eye. "And what exactly did you mean by she? Is there something you'd like to share with me before we continue?"

Renata recovered her usual calm revere. “I think that's enough for today Mr McCarty.” She calmly stated picking up the bottle of whiskey, the empty glasses and placing them all on the replicator to allow them to be recycled. “I don’t think you need me to show you the way out.” Her final piece said, Renata walked out of her office and into the main area of sickbay.

"Whatever you say doc." He said softly. He made his way out of sickbay and began strolling down the corridor. Although he was angered by the new doctor's arrogance and general misconception of the situation at hand he could not help but be impressed at the same time. Part of him liked how direct she was and how quick she was to end a situation which most likely would have gone nowhere. He decided to head back towards his quarters, the doctor would summon him if she required any further information.

OFF:

A JP by

Lieutenant JG Jake McCarty
Assistant Chief Flight Control Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

and

[Barrett]

ON:<<USS Malinche, Bridge, 0740, Day 1>>

Trace was still getting used to the new layout; the Iowa appeared to be far more cramped the the Malinche, even though they were about the same size. Everything on the Malinche was new and gleaming compared to the Iowa. He had a meeting with his department head later that morning. He was eager to dig in and get some work done.

He pushed the door chime and seconds later the doors whooshed open, admitting him to the captain's ready room.

Jason had known that they were getting a new crew member as soon as the incident with the Elyshans had been cleared up. The doors opened and a young Trill walked in; he had an air of confidence about him that most joined Trills had...at least all the ones that he had ever met.

"Ensign Trace Vosh reporting for duty."

Isabel slightly raised an eyebrow and looked at the Ensign, "Good morning, Ensign. Have a seat." She motioned to an empty chair across from her - next to where Jason was sitting. Their conversation could wait...at the moment, Isabel needed to greet the new crewmember.

Trace did as he was told, taking a seat across from his captain and next to the XO, Jason Barrett. He had read up on both of them on the way over and was pretty impressed. They both had a command style that seemed a lot more relaxed then most ships that he had been on but everyone still appeared to respect them both. Trace took that as a good sign.

"I just wanted to say that you both have an excellent reputation, as does the Malinche," Trace said. He handed captain Kersare his transfer orders. "Here are the official orders."

Jason arched an eyebrow at the young ensign. He was certainly no stranger to speaking his mind; again that might have something to do with the fact that he was a joined Trill and as such probably had several lifetime's worth of experience to call on.

Isabel nodded and took the transfer orders from Trace. She shook his hand, then paused to skim the orders quickly. Later she could read them more in depth, but since Trace was here now, it didn't make sense to do so. "Thank you Ensign, I'm glad to hear it."

"Thanks," Jason stated, offering his hand. "I'm Lt. Commander Jason Barrett, your XO."

Trace shook his hand; he had read a lot about both of them. Jason Barrett had just recently come back from working with the Maran Navy for the past year or so. Captain Kersare had not only survived a stand off with the Eyshans but also a battle against the Borg. He had no doubt that they two of them were going to make find commanding officers, they both reminded him of his past host Eridan. "Glad to meet you both sir. I take it that things have settled down around here? From what I can gather the Malinche is a pretty exciting ship."

"They've settled down for the time being. The Elyshans left yesterday, actually. Did you just arrive, Ensign, or were you here before the stand off?" Isabel looked at the young man and awaited his reply.

"Just came in this morning," Trace responded. "We heard something about the Elyshans high tailing it out of the system. You guys must have put on a pretty good show to scare them away like that."

Jason had to smile, Trace certainly appeared to have a relaxed attitude. He had come highly recommended from his previous posting. "When enemies see the Malinche they have a tendency to do that, the running away part that is."

"Well, not always...and we certainly don't usually come out unscathed as we did this time. Hopefully the Elyshans won't be back for awhile though," Isabel commented seriously. She glanced at the transfer orders again to see what his last assignment had been. Noting the medical leave of absence, Isabel asked, "Ensign...what happened that ended with you on a medical leave of absence?"

"The Iowa sir, the last ship I served on was attacked by Cardassin rebels. They stormed the bridge, before I got a chance to take them all down I was shot in the back. If it hadn't been for the USS Challenger's chief medical officer I probably wouldn't have survived."

Jason arched an eyebrow; that was certainly a surprise. He knew that Adam would have had access to Trace's medical files but hadn't gotten around to finding too much out about their new assistant chief.

Isabel nodded slowly, "I'm sure that StarFleet has cleared you to return to duty, but I have a feeling our Chief Medical Officer will want you to stop in...the Counselor may as well." Really, that was what generally happened any time a new crewmember came aboard, but considering what had caused the medical leave, she figured the Doctor and Counselor would certainly want to see him.

"Will do sir," Trace nodded. In all reality he knew that he needed to stop by and at least see the doc, he wasn't so keen on seeing the shrink though.

"For the time being, we'll be at 386 until we receive our next set of orders, so you should have time to get settled in. Our Chief Security/Tactical Officer is Lieutenant JG Masterson - he actually just arrived a couple days ago. It would be a good idea to touch base with him sometime today," Isabel suggested.

"I've already got a meeting scheduled with him," Trace smiled. "He seems pretty eager to get things going."

Isabel smiled, "Great, glad to hear it. Do you have any questions for either myself or Lieutenant Commander Barrett?" She didn't want to rush him, but the main things she needed to know she'd already found out. Now Isabel just wanted to see if there was anything she could answer for him.

"Nothing I can think of sir," Trace said.

"I think that's all for now, right sir?" Jason asked, looking at Isabel. She nodded and Trace turned around and headed out, leaving Isabel and Jason alone once again.

OFF: A JP brought to you by:

Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche

&

Ensign Trace Vosh
Assistant Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Malinche

&

[Hansen]

ON:

[[COO's Quarters, USS Malinche, Shore Leave Day 1, 1610 hours]]

"Computer, open a channel to station X-3101, verification code Torin pi alpha six." Sean said, plugging an isolinear chip into the interface circuit of the computer terminal.

As he waited for the channel to open, he double checked his encryption values and made it look like he was doing something important in the event he was interrupted. After a few rather long moments, a face appeared on the screen, slightly masked and blurred by the static filling the screen.

"It is about time you contacted us." said the cool, firm voice of the man on the screen. "We were beginning to think that something had happened."

Sean scoffed at the remark. "It took me too long break through the Elyshans jamming signal. Whoever it was that got you the frequency of their signal is either incompetent or he's been compromised."

"We can deal with that later. For now, what do you have to report, and are you sure this signal won't be detected?" the man asked.

Sean swiveled his head slightly in irritation. "Of course it won't be detected. I'm the Chief Operations Officer. If I wanted to transport a parade of Bolian Elephants from Deep Space Nine to the Hydra Sector, I could do it without anyone knowing about it. In any case, the Elyshans are done with. I've had to make some slight modifications to the plan because of their arrival, but it's nothing that will effect the mission."

The man on the screen nodded slowly. "I expect to see your results within the next two weeks. Bohemian isn't a very patient person you know."

Sean leaned forward in his chair. "You'll get your results. Just don't think that I can't reach *you.* I have friends a lot farther up than you, so I'd watch my tone. Unless of course you'd like to find yourself assigned to the Tholian devision."

The static filled face of the man could be seen to frown. "I look... forward to seeing you again. 3101 out."

The screen blanked out and Sean leaned back in his seat, arms crossed as he drifted into a deep thought.

OFF:

A Post by:

"The Man" (NPC)
Played by Hansen

And

[Peters]

ON: <Starbase 386, Shoreleave day 1, Promenade 1030 hrs>

L'Randil walked down the ramp from the docking port into the crowded promenade with her typical apprehension. Crowds made the Caitian uncomfortable, but she was working on it.

As she walked along she saw a familiar Bajoran woman in the restaurant through the window. It almost made her stop and double check but she passed it off as chance. It would be a very unpleasant encounter if it was the pilot Roen. She kept walking to see what other things there were to see.

A familiar voice greeted her when she stopped in an intersection to decide where to go. It was Cmdr. Peters.

"I tawt I taw a puddy tat," Peters quipped as he caught up with L'Randil. "Going somewhere in particular?"

She smiled and turned around to him. It was a relief to see a familiar friend. "No, not really, Sir." She paused and looked around. "This whole off-ship thing is a bit...different for me. What do you like to do here?"

"To tell the truth, I'm rather new here myself. I was in the middle of exploring when the Elyshans dropped in on us." Peters shrugged. "Mostly right now I'm killing time until my meeting with Lieutenant Breland about the Malinche's refit later today."

L'Randil pointed and they began to walk a direction if nothing else but for the sake of walking. "I remember going down that way to the engineering lab for the Type 9 project. Other than that I don't know what else is here." She stopped. "Is that a holosuite? I used to love playing Sor-tel in hologram form until my accident."

"I'm not familiar with the game," Peters replied as he looked where L'Randil was indicating. It was indeed a holosuite.

She smirked. "It is a Caitian equivalent of your...um...Soccer? I think that's it. Quite engaging."

"I see," Peters replied. Soccer was not his game. "Tell me, is there a Caitian equivalent to basketball, or is that harder to manage with the paws?"

She thought for a moment. "I have never played such a game, although it is interesting to watch." She held up one of her felinoid hands, extending and clenching her fingers curiously. "I suppose I could try it, though I can't say I know how to do so."

"It's not difficult to learn the rules," Peters said, "But it can take years to master, if you ever do." He spoke from experience. He'd been good enough during his Academy days to get on the Academy team, but he'd had little chance to play since then, so he was sure he was nowhere near as good as he had been, once upon a time.

"Would you have time to show me?" She asked with a playful expression. "I'm twenty-one but I still have a little competitive side sometimes." It had been since before her accident that she had played any sort of sports because of the pain. After the years that had gone by, she thought it seemed like it was a good time to try.

"Twenty-one in cat years, or Federation standard years?" Peters asked with a smile. "I'll happily show you how to play. But I warn you, I'm a bit out of practice... so go easy on me once you get the hang of things."

L'Randil chuckled. "In proportion, I suppose I would be your species thirty years?" She said softly. "Of course we are adults at thirteen. Anyway, Let's set this thing up."

She walked over to the counter and talked to the attendant who gave her a data rod. Once they walked into the room, she dialed in the program.

Peters waited until the court had appeared and then grabbed a ball off the rack that appeared near him. "OK, so, fundamentals. The basic idea is that you want to throw this ball through that hoop. However, you can't move more than two steps without bouncing the ball, which is called 'dribbling,' and you can't strike or shove another player. Depending on where you throw the ball from you score either 2 or 3 points when it goes through the hoop."

She took a ball and felt it over while looking at the hoop. She then hit it on the ground and it bounced up over her head, making her scramble to catch up to it. Regaining her composure, she threw it to the basket and it bounced off the rim.

"Seemed simple enough. So how is this scored again?" The Caitian asked, standing in front of Todd.

Peters smiled. "At the semi-professional and professional level, it's whoever scores the most points in four periods of a set length wins. At the 'street' level, or in games with less than the full amount of players, it's usually the first player or team to a certain number of points. If you're inside the half-circle around the basket you get two points, outside you get three. And if you're fouled and shoot from the free throw line, there, you get one point for each basket, usually with two tries, but that varies based on the type of foul."

"Very well." L'Randil replied. "Let's get started, though I should be dressed more appropriately." She walked into the locker room off the edge of the court and walked out a moment later in blue shorts and a white tank top. The exposure would probably have a different effect on a humanoid, but in this case it simply revealed more fur.

"That's better. Ready when you are, Sir." She smirked as she stood in front of him. He began with a quick move around the short Caitian which led to a basket, which scored on the board.

"I think I see it now." She chuckled as he threw her the ball.

"Your turn, cat," Peters said with a smile. "I'll try and keep you from reaching the basket, you try and either get around me or shoot over me. But if you jump you have to throw the ball before you come back down."

"I see. Alright." She nodded and changed to a glint of competitive intent, leaning forward with the ball. She bounced it around and under the human's reach, regaining control and making a jump shot. He had not realized how high she could jump until she tried. The ball went in and she walked over to get it.

"I can't jump very well." L'Randil sighed as she tossed him the ball. That being a relative thing since she could jump almost as high as the hoop. "How high do we play to?"

"On Earth the feline species can usually jump several times their own height," Peters replied, "So I imagine even not jumping very well, you can probably still out-jump me if you tried. And we'll start off playing to 10. We'll see if I remember anything else important as we go."

The pair went for a few more points, virtually tied since Peters having more experience but L'Randil having more swiftness.

The younger intercepted a shot he made, then attempted to run with it. When she landed, however her leg collapsed underneath her in pain. She let out a meow like growl in pain as she held her knee close.

"I knew better. I so knew...better." She muttered. "I was winning too." She tried to joke but the pain was still showing.

Peters knelt down next to L'Randil and put a hand on her shoulder. Tapping is commbadge, he spoke, "Medical assistance to Holosuite block 3."

Tapping the commbadge again to close the channel, he looked down. "Are you ok? Can I get you an ice pack?"

She looked over to him, trying to smile. "Thanks, it might help." She straightened her leg out on the floor, resting back on her hands. "Ever since my leg and hip were broken from the fall it's never been the same. I thought it would be alright though." She paused and pointed at him, ribbing. "I was gonna win!"

OFF: This has been a Joint Post with:

Ensign L'Randil N'rass
Shuttle Maintenance Specialist
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

[N'rass]

ON: <Starbase 386, Shoreleave day 1, Promenade 1400 hrs>

L'Randil hobbled along the promenade on the crutch that medical had given her. It was not at all a foreign feeling for her. She refused help from her CO as he had offered, simply choosing to meander her way back to her quarters.

The starfleet issued crutch was a poor fit for her and she was annoyed by it. Eventually she made her way to her quarters and uttered a short caitian word. The computer responded with lights turning on and a background hum of a shuttle engine playback.

She often found the silence of quarters to be disorienting, so the sound made her feel at home. There was a drawer in her dresser with a few memorabilia items. A photograph of her family at a much earlier time period. The girl's hair was braided in a coarse manner and her outfit was dark with loud chrome accents. Her parents were much more orderly and neat, her father in a suit and mother in a light red dress.

The memory of that time period brought a silent tear to her eyes. She had been a somewhat rebellious adolescent, though not toward her parents. They supported her endeavors, regardless of how outlandish they seemed. That is with the exception of the shuttle company.

Ferassa had such a poor reputation for safety that her father was against her being employed there from the beginning. He managed to find the fortitude to allow her to try it until the accident. She turned her eyes down to the crutch that laid in the drawer also. It had been a long time since she needed the wrist-supporting custom measured tool.

The grip felt familiar and to a degree comfortable as she picked it out of the drawer and rested on it. She sighed and closed her eyes as she shut the drawer, turning to go back out to the station.

"If only I had listened, father. Maybe I wouldn't need this thing." She said to herself in a slightly regretting tone. It was a thought she had in increasing frequency, particularly when the pain was bad.

[Barrett]

ON:<<USS Malinche, Bridge, 0745, Day 1>>

"I barely got a chance to skim his personal file this morning," Jason stated. "But it looks like he comes highly recommended. How many different hosts has his symbiont had?"

Unsure herself, Isabel slid the PADD containing Trace's transfer orders and service record towards her and brought up his record. After perusing for a few moments, she replied, "Trace is the fifth."

"Interesting, not really sure I could stand having all those different memories and experiences floating around inside my head."

"I imagine that's why the Trill's have the rather extensive joining program," Isabel commented. "Also a reason they have the zhian'tara."

"There was one more thing I wanted to ask you captain...well two more actually."

Isabel nodded, "Go ahead." She wasn't entirely sure what Jason had on his mind, but now was as good a time as any for him to ask her.

"I asked Adam (NPC) to marry me, for some odd reason he said yes. With your permission we would like to have the ceremony aboard the Malinche and for you to perform it."

"Well, first off, congratulations. You're certainly welcome to use the Malinche - just coordinate with Crewman Liras and she can get things ready for you. I'd also be happy to perform the ceremony," she replied.

"Oh and we decided to adopt, he's a Bajoran, although we think his father was human. He's been staying with some Bajoran monks in Bajor, his name is Tavi. If the information that we are getting from Bajor is correct he's about 9 years old...we...I mean me and Adam talked about it and we would like for you to be his god parent."

Pausing, Isabel tried to take in the additional information. "I would certainly be honored. When would the adoption go through? And what plans do you have in mind for the child if the Malinche is sent on a more risky mission? I don't mean to discourage you, but I would feel better if you had some ideas on that - I can't always guarantee the safety of the crew, but I certainly wouldn't want to be responsible for putting a child in harm's way."

”We thought about that,” Jason said. “The truth is captain, no one can…not even on a planet…hell not even on Earth. Life is full of danger no matter where you look. I trust you and I trust this crew.”

"I do have one request...I think it would be a good idea for you and Adam to meet with Lieutenant Zeral before all these changes. Certainly together, but perhaps separate as well. The two of you have some major life changes planned and I feel it would be helpful to speak to someone - get a plan in place before all the changes," Isabel said.

Jason nodded. He figured that she would want him to see Zeral sooner then later, and judging by all the things he had been reading in Tavi’s file, it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea for him to see her too. “If its alright with you I would like to take Joey (NPC) with us when we head out to pick him up. The Bajoran transport port Peaceful Slumber has agreed to meet with us outside the Vertis System. I don’t think we’ll be gone all that long. If you want though I can just send Adam and Joey, assuming you need me around here.”

"I think we should be alright for the time being," Isabel replied. "And if you want to take Joey, that's fine. Speak with the Shuttlebay Manager about which auxilliary craft you can take." She was a bit surprised at the request - Isabel would have thought that Adam and Jason would want to get the child on their own. "How soon will you leave?"

”I am hoping sometime tomorrow,” Jason said. “Joey wanted to meet up with an old friend on the Bajoran transport that’s carrying him.”

Isabel nodded, "Alright, that should be fine. If I get any updates as far as our next mission, I'll be sure to let you know. Have you met the new Shuttlebay Manager yet? Or our new Doctor, for that matter?"

"Not yet," Jason said, shaking his head. "Although Adam has been raving about her."

"I think the Doctor will work out well," Isabel agreed. "I haven't met the new Shuttlebay Manager though...perhaps today or tomorrow. Anyway, I'm sure you have plenty of things to do before you leave - let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

”Just have to pack a few things…I never thought that I would be heading out to pick up a kid,” Jason smiled. “Still, I have to admit that it is kind of exciting.”

Isabel returned the smile, "I'm glad you'r excited about it. How much do you know about the child? Have you seen him before?" She had no idea when he would've had time, but perhaps he'd made the time. It was an important decision, after all.

“Me and Adam have talked to him a few times via subspace so he won’t be taken completely off guard.”

"That's good, hopefully that will help with the transition. Unfortunately, there won't really be any children for him to interact with here though," Isabel said.

“We talked about that,” Jason said. “But there weren’t many kids around where he was brought up either. All and all, I think that this will be a good place for him. Maybe we can give him the finally that he never had.”

Isabel nodded, smiling, "I'm sure you will."

“At any rate, I better get going. Adam wants to head down to 386 to pick up some more kid friendly things. We should be ok in our quarters for now but we are going to have to move at some point. I’ll look into getting us some new quarters.”

"You could speak with someone in Ops about it - they might have some ideas," she suggested. "Or Crewman Liras (NPC) could scout some out for you, if you'd like. I don't want to hold you up though...good luck."

“Thanks again captain,” Jason said, standing up.

"Of course," Isabel replied. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Will do," Jason nodded.

OFF:

A JP by:

Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche

&